


My Doctor is a Hallucination

by action_cat



Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drugs, F/M, Gen, Grocery, Hallucinations, M/M, Rehabilitation, Sonic Screwdriver, TenRose - Freeform, Wishes, addiction (mentioned), cross-over
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-26 08:46:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2645615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/action_cat/pseuds/action_cat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes is revisited by the Tenth Doctor and Rose Tyler, who, on multiple occasions, helped him overcome his addiction. Well, John doesn't know who he is, but Mrs. Hudson does.</p><p>I'm sorry, I shouldn't ever write cross-overs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Doctor is a Hallucination

**Author's Note:**

> I AM SO SORRY I SHOULD NEVER WRITE CORSSOVERS SO SORRY  
> please don't hate me i;m sorry

**Rose**

"This the place?" Rose said, looking up at the black wooden door. The Doctor nodded, smiling. "Well then," said Rose, striding up to the door. "Let's knock."

She knocked thrice on the black door, ignoring the sliver knocker three inches to her left.  _Tap, tap, tap._ When no one answered at first, she looked back at the Doctor, who frowned and bounced up the stairs next to her.

"Why are we here anyway?" Rose asked, while the Doctor inspected the knocker.

"Visiting on old friends- you know, there is a knocker here. Could've used that, instead of knocking. " The Doctor was wearing his coat, it was cold outside. Then again, it was the middle of November. Rose grinned.

"Is there a reason I should've used the knocker? You would't have." 

"Fair point." They waited in silence for a few seconds.

"Let's try sonic, shall we?" He took out the screwdriver, and was about to try to unlock the door when it was suddenly flung open by an elderly woman in a purple dress. Her light blonde hair was cropped short, but her eyes were sharp and beautiful. The woman saw Rose first, and smiled. But when she saw the Doctor, she gasped and grinned. She ushered them inside.

"Doctor! What a lovely surprise!" Her voice was clear, and when she looked at the Doctor she beamed. Glowed, really. The Doctor took her hand and planted a kiss, where she blushed and pulled him into an awkward hug. "Dearie, none of that. It's just wonderful to see you. And who is this young lady?"

The Doctor pulled away rather sheepishly, looking as a boy who had been hugged by his mother in front of his friends. He blushed. "Mrs. Hudson, this is Rose Tyler. Rose, this is Mrs. Martha Louise Hudson. She's an old friend on mine, we've been friends for a long time." 

Mrs. Hudson just smiled. "It's about time you've gotten someone. Tea?" 

The Doctor shook his head. He became somber, and Mrs. Hudsons' smile faded a bit. She recovered. "Oh, you're here for him."

"And you! Haven't seen you in how long has it been?"

"Five years, dear."

"Not as bad as last time, aye? But when I'm done with him I will talk to you. Promise." The Doctor smiled, and Mrs. Hudson pointed them up the stairs. Rose smiled, but Mrs. Hudson was still a bit somber. "Be back in a bit!" 

They clattered up the stairs, where a barely audible sigh was heard from beneath them.

 

**Sherlock**

Sherlock Holmes was sitting at the kitchen table, doing an experiment. I can tell you it involved fire, NaCl (table salt), chlorine, and a hand. A dead hand. The purpose? Well, it was either table salt or chlorine that matched the stains on the man's hand, and the burning of the strips of paper dipped in water containing the suspected molecules was the proof of a man's alibi. It all depended on which one matched that hand. It was boring, but since John had gone out for milk and jam, among other things, life was boring and he needed interest. Mrs. Hudson had taken his Nicotine patches.

Goggles on, flame on, tweezers cast in the corner, hand on the table (dead hand). All was ready, and then the front door opened. 

Sherlock stood up and walked to the door, his ears alert. It was too early for John, perhaps Mycroft? But no, there were no cars parked outside and it was highly unlikely that Mycroft would walk to Baker Street. A client, maybe but he hadn't had appointments in weeks. Maybe someone for Mrs. Hudson. Yes, she had opened the door and was now talking. Her quiet voice carried, just a tiny bit.

"Dearie, none of that! It's just wonderful to see you. And who is this young lady?

"Mrs. Hudson, this is Rose……." Their voices faded out, as boredom resumed. Sherlock walked back to the flame, now immersed in the experiment. But wait, there were footsteps heading up, up to his flat. Sherlock held still, breathing barely as he walked silently to the cupboard, which held a gun. He grabbed the gun and walked out to the doorway, hiding opposite the hinges. The couple's voices started up.

"So, you've taken me to see _Sherlock Holmes_! You mean, the real  _Sherlock Holmes from the_ -" The girl was excited.

"Rose, shush. Different timestreams, we can't talk about Doyle's books here." The man spoke, and the girl's voice went quiet. They were standing at the doorway, just waiting.

"So,  _Doctor Smith._ " Her voice was mocking, but with a bit of humor. The man chuckled. "It's an easy name." 

"Shouldn't we go in? He hasn't answered yet."

"Well I can't sonic the door. Too primitive. The front one only worked because I saved the calculations from the last time I was here. Rose, what are you doing?!"

"Taking measures." And the door was flung open, luckily Sherlock wasn't behind the door. He took a step back as a blond girl walked in, surveying the flat.  _Nineteen, 5'4. Was a_ _gymnast when she was younger. Can shoot, broke her hand when she was…..seven?_ Rose, as the man had called her, turned around calling, "There's no one in here Doc-" She stopped when she saw Sherlock. She stiffened. "Never mind. He's here. "

"Well that's great." Sherlock sighed and massaged his temples. "Why, are you people even here. Didn't get an invitation, nor an appointment. And yet," he paused slightly, "You refer to me as some sort of… fantasy character, almost. Well come out, don't keep a man waiting it's not polite." He turned to the mantle to re-hide the gun, and when he turned around, there he was.

The man, the hallucination man, was in his room. He stood there, with his tall, slim frame, finely boned hands and facial structure, thick, brown messy hair, pale skin shattered with freckles, sideburns, and large brown eyes. He smiled. Sherlock gritted his teeth and loaded the gun, shooting at the man and missing. The man held out his hands, trying to console Sherlock.

"YOU, ARE A HALLUCINATION! YOU AREN'T HERE!" He reloaded and shot again, until the man took out this mechanical thing with a blue light on the end. He sighed. "Didn't want to do this." And the gun was shattered, leaving Sherlock defenseless. The man walked over to Sherlock, striding.

"Sherlock Holmes, six years ago when you were sick and mad, I came here and helped you get better. You stayed well, and when I left you thought I was fake. But here I am, and Mrs. Hudson has taken your drugs. What do you think I am? I am not a hallucination, now sit down and focus!" The man sat down in John's chair, while Rose sat on the carpet by his feet. He jumped up immediately. "Sorry, sorry, Rose, you take the chair. I'll take the desk." The blond smiled at him as she sat down, and he got the chair.

"What is your name?" Sherlock called, his gaze drifting. 

"You can call me Doctor Smith. I won't bother showing you my credentials, you'd think them fake."

"If you're the man I met last time, I know that they are. How've you been doing, all these years? Can't figure out anything with you." He had obviously calmed down a lot. The Doctor smiled cheekily.

"No, no, the question is how are  _you_ doing, Sherlock."

 

**John**

"Well, in retrospect, I should have realized that you shouldn't be a hallucination. So sorry." Sherlock's lilting voice carried down the rickety stairs, down to where John was stumbling in with the groceries. He groaned, Sherlock had company. "Sherlock!" His voice muffled by the paper bags. He hadn't been heard, but the conversation stopped and the flat door opened. At the top, was a blond girl who walked down the stairs and smiled.

"Hello, John? Am I right?" She took a bag from him, and John smiled, a bit breathlessly.

"Yeah, John Watson. You?" The girl's eyes widened a bit, and her mouth opened in surprise.

"Wow…okay." She whispered, very quietly that at first John wasn't sure what she said. She grinned. "I'm Rose, Rose Tyler. I'd offer you my hand, but…" She gestured to the grocery bags John was carrying. He laughed. They traveled up the stairs, Rose in front.

When they entered the flat, a man was sitting on his desk talking to Sherlock. He had brown messy hair that was all "sticky-uppy", matching sideburns, big brown eyes, and freckles. The man wore a dark brown suit with blue pinstripes, and over on the coat hanger was a light-brown overcoat, and on his feet were white high-top converse. John raised an eyebrow at Sherlock, who rolled his eyes. Rose went to the kitchen, wrinkling her nose at the smell.

"Sherlock," she called, "There are human eyeballs in the fridge. Does the milk go above or below it?" The new man smiled slightly. Sherlock smirked, remarking "She's not that squeamish, is she?"

"Just a bit. We've seen worse." Sherlock laughed quietly.

"Above." He called. His eyes lit up when he saw John. Sherlock sprung up, and took a bag. John frowned, this was new. But there was a reason. Sherlock had ruffled through the grocery in search of something, and he got excited when he found it. The cause of delight? A wrapped paper bundle. John wrinkled his nose when he saw it, but did not comment, while Sherlock was ecstatic. 

"Doctor," Sherlock called. "This is John Watson, a friend." John walked over and shook hands with the man. He smiled.

"What exactly are you a Doctor of?" John sat down in his chair, while the man leaned on the desk. He grinned.

"That's not a question I get often. I'm a Doctor of extra-terrestrial……stuff. But I'm good at it!" John gave Sherlock a look, who shrugged and gave a thumbs-up. The Doctor grinned. "If you don't  want to call me 'the Doctor' I go by Doctor Smith. John Smith, but you've already taken that name, so if you feel like it, Smith. But not Smithy, unless, well unless I'm in the mood."

Rose giggled. Sherlock smirked, and John just looked confused. The Doctor stood up, and clapped Sherlock on the back, who had walked over to grab John's laptop.

"Well, Will, it seems that you're doing alright here. Would stay, but we really have to go." The Doctor smiled.

"It's nice of you to pop in, but give me some warning next time. Good-bye, Doctor." They shook hands, Rose giving Sherlock a hug. The Doctor took out his screwdriver, and subtly, while Sherlock was hugging Rose, soniced him. Sherlock froze in motion, staring at the floor with a ghost of a smile on his face. The Doctor sighed, turning to John.

"Really didn't want to do that." John's mouth was open in shock. He half-rose from the chair, but them sat down from a look from the Doctor. 

"John, listen to me. Whatever you do, do not leave Baker Street for three or four years. Do not go to a different flat, do not move. Do not get married and move out to the country."

"What? Why!" John was clearly indignant.

"Why? Because if you leave, Sherlock will die in three-months tops. Drug abuse, alcohol, the works. You've seen what leaving did to your sister, do you want Sherlock to turn into that?"

"No, of course not but how come you can't come and fix him again?" Doctor Smith sighed.

"We're getting unreliable. We're always off by two or three months, and if we mess up, Sherlock could have done far worse." Rose called, still in Sherlock's death grip. "He doesn't hug people that much does he?" With a glance at John, she shouted, "Two minutes until break-off. Doctor, hurry!"

"Yes, yes. Anyway, don't leave. Mrs. Hudson hasn't been able to get Sherlock a flatmate in eight years, and you're rare. Whatever you do, when Moriarty comes back, don't leave. Or England as you know it will fall. Understand?"

John nodded. He rose, however shakily. "I don't know what you did to Sherlock before, but it's working. I think."

Rose called out "Time!" And Sherlock unfroze, releasing Rose. She smiled, and shook hands with John.

"It was nice meeting you."

"You too. Come again."

"Oh we will." The Doctor butted in. He shook hands with Sherlock and John each, smiling at both of them. " 'till next time, eh?"

"Yes, till next time." They walked out, arm in arm. Rose smiled one last time at them while the Doctor grabbed his coat, and then they were off, shouting to Mrs. Hudson downstairs. John turned to Sherlock.

"That was the shortest and weirdest visit we've ever had. What did he do to you?" John gave a weak chuckle. Sherlock gazed out the window.

" I don't even know."

 

 

**Mrs. Hudson**

And so, my dear Doctor was back. It was nice that Sherlock hadn't remembered him from last time. But that time wasn't the first. The first time, when he left, the Doctor took me along with him. I was young at the time, and Frank was gone for a few days. But those planets, those aliens! It was a marvelous and amazing time for me, and when it was over, I had always wished that he would take me again. 

But now he's got a different face, a new companion. And he loves her, the way he looks at her when he think's she's not looking.  Oh, the days when I had wished that the mad man had looked at me like that! But that was decades ago, and even when he came back, I knew I wouldn't be able to go. I've got a hip.

But maybe, maybe the Doctor didn't just come for Sherlock. As his ship groaned and flew away, I knew that he would be back, and soon.

For one day, if we're very lucky, Sherlock Holmes won't need an addiction for him to be under control.

And when that day comes, the Doctor will be nearby.

With a grin on his face, and a song in his heart.

 


End file.
